


Across Time & Space

by iggycakes



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Found Family, M/M, Post-Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggycakes/pseuds/iggycakes
Summary: In another time and place, G'raha Tia is an ordinary office worker who is in love, love, looove with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. It's a secret, but, his bias is the lead singer, the one and only, Warrior of Light.A'gust Fen is the leader singer of his band. And his latest conundrum is the cute miqo'te he sees in the train sometimes and can't muster up the courage to say 'hi.Someday, they'll meet and fall in love. In the meanwhile, G'raha's got to deal with the little viera he's recently adopted. And A'gust's got to crawl out of writer's block or the Scions' next album is in trouble.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 26
Kudos: 56





	1. Concert

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Bunch Of Daffodils](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364736) by [iggycakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggycakes/pseuds/iggycakes). 



> Hello friends! I have been working on this project for a few months and I FINALLY feel ready to start posting it. It's an AU that prominently features an OC and I realize fics like this aren't very popular out here on AO3, but I hope you'll stick around anyway. 
> 
> I have a few chapters pre-written that I'm going to roll out slowly. Most of them are pretty short as we build up to the meat of the story. It's going to be a REALLY, REEEEEEALLY slow burn y'all. Real slow. Please enjoy!

It was a hot and humid summer evening.

The kind better spent indoors, in an air conditioned room with cold snacks and a TV show you promised someone you’d watch two years ago and just haven’t gotten to.

But G’raha was out and about, staring at a flyer he’d just received from some elezen fellow handing them out by the station. It was for a show that was happening. One of those basement gigs where a bunch of indie bands would play a song or two. The venue wasn’t far and G’raha didn’t have anything else to do that night. So, why not, right? He should do that thing Cid was constantly telling him to do. Live a little, or whatever. 

He obviously didn’t know any of the people playing, but he liked music. Maybe it’d be fun? Or so he thought until he arrived at the bar. 

It was a small, intimate place. There were standing tables and a corner counter with a bartender for drinks. The stage was in the back, about three feet off the ground. There was a band already playing. Nice smooth jazz. G’raha squeezed himself a spot against the back wall. He wanted to be able to leave whenever he wanted without causing a ruckus.

The smooth jazz band played a ten-minute improv piece that was pretty good. Some people in the front got really excited when the saxophonist did a solo. He supposed it was because the person was fairly handsome. With those sideburns and dark hair tied up in a bun. The next band that came up looked like beginners. The lead singer seemed nervous through their first song and, by the second, ran offstage in tears. Oof. The third band G’raha got to listen to was nothing to write home about. Or maybe he just wasn’t into their genre. Either way.

It was an hour later and he was thinking about stepping out. Also, he was certain the bartender noticed he didn’t order anything to drink yet and it was making him anxious.Was he supposed to order something? Everyone else had drinks. Damn. Maybe he should get something first and then leave. He didn’t want to be rude.

G’raha squeezed his way across the floor towards the bar. Just one drink. Then, he’d leave. The half-shaven roegadyn woman behind the counter flashed him a business smile and asked for his order. A cider, he sputtered out, vaguely worried that the music was drowning him out. But the lady seemed to hear him just fine. A second later, he got his drink. He paid, nodded and wandered back to his spot.

There were moments in everyone’s life when it feels like the planes have shifted. The truth is laid bare and every missing piece suddenly falls into place. As if it’s been there the whole time. As if all the answers had been right in front of you and you’d just been blind. G’raha felt that way the moment he heard  _ his _ voice.

It cut through all the noise in a single breath.

G’raha’s hand squeezed around his glass as he turned to look up at the stage. He missed the band’s intro while getting his drink. 

They were a four-person group. In a split moment, he wondered if they had chosen each other solely on the basis that they all had white hair. But before he could process how hilarious  _ that  _ thought was, the lead singer started singing.

The lights behind and above them were so bright. G’raha could barely see. He pushed through the crowd, hoping to get a closer look. The singer’s soft voice silenced the crowd. Much of the audience had become just as enthralled as he did. The rhythm ramped into the chorus. The singer grabbed the mic and belted. His passion shook G’raha as he finally found a good spot and looked up. 

Dark skin. Light pink hair. 

The sweat on his forehead as he performed. His voice. There was something about his voice that pulled him in, like a spell. G’raha felt his heart stop. 

The singer smiled. Bright and wide. 

There was nothing else. Nothing but the sound of his voice and the energy of this song. G’raha had never felt like this before. It was overwhelming. His mind was a mess. Who were they? What was this?

His heart raced. He didn’t realize when someone bumped into him, spilling half his cider on the floor. 

When the song ended, he expected to hear more. But that was all they had. 

The bassist walked up to the mic and spoke. “Thanks for listening! We’re the Scions of the Seventh Dawn!”

She waved and wink while the singer bowed, still smiling, red on his cheeks, out of breath. He waved at the crowd who clapped and cheered them on enthusiastically. Before G’raha knew it, another band had taken their place on the stage.

G’raha stood there bewildered for who knows how long. He didn’t even remember leaving the venue, but somehow he got home just fine anyway. He couldn’t stop thinking about that band. That singer’s voice. His smile. 

He wished they had all introduced themselves. If only so he could’ve heard the singer some more. He wanted to see him perform again. Desperately. Wait, their name had to be on the flyer, right? He scrambled through his pockets, finding it folded haphazardly in his jeans.

G’raha furiously looked the band up, shocked he hadn’t done so earlier. He hadn’t thought to do so in his stupor. Idiot. 

_ Scions of the Seventh Dawn. _

Nothing. There was hardly anything. Except an insta account with 10 followers and a single photograph. A photo of someone’s hand doing a thumbs up in front of a bunch of instruments. A flashy red guitar, a muted blue bass, another red, more fancy-looking guitar and a drum set. The caption read ‘first show tonight!’ with a bunch of emojis following it.

G’raha laughed.

And pressed the ‘follow’ button.


	2. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyna is abandoned.

When Lyna realized what had happened, she stopped and did the first thing any child would do in this situation. She blamed herself.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know how to go back home. If she thought about it really hard, she could retrace her steps. She was a resourceful kid. She knew how to read maps. She could ask for directions. She’d be okay. But Lyna didn’t move. Her feet remained planted firmly on the pavement as throngs of people walked past her. Completely ignoring the fact that she was an unattended child in the middle of the sidewalk. She wasn’t crying. That was probably why. Should she? The situation called for it. She was sure that’s what most kids would do. Cry and call for their parents. 

Lyna stared at the ground. Her little hands clenched into tight fists. She couldn’t cry though. Mama hated it when she cried. Hold it in. Hold it in. 

Wait. 

Why did she have to hold it in? Mama was gone. 

She left you here. She didn’t want you anymore. 

You don’t have anywhere to go.

It was all your fault though. You weren’t good enough. You were a bad girl. You didn’t do everything right. You couldn’t do it perfect like she wanted. Mama didn’t want you in the first place. She only kept you because she had to. That’s what she would say. In tears. At least once a week. Because you said you were hungry. Because there wasn’t any toilet paper. Because you couldn’t reach something on a tall shelf.  _ I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask for any of this!  _ Mama said.  _ Why do I have to work so hard? Don’t I deserve a break too?  _

She would cry and cry. And you would tell her.  _ Mama, I love you.  _ Let Lyna help. I can be better. Mama can rest. Mama doesn’t have to do anything.

So, please. Don’t leave me too.

If you tried hard enough. If you worked hard enough. Maybe Mama would want you. Maybe Mama wouldn’t cry anymore. 

Lyna’s lips quivered. The view of the pavement blurred as tears filled her vision. 

“Are you alright? Are you lost?”

A miqo’te with muted red hair and a concerned expression knelt down in front of her. Lyna sniffled and took a step back. Oh no. She was making a scene. What if they took her away now? What if they found Mama and called her bad? Lyna couldn’t let that happen. She had to stand right here. She couldn’t move. 

Maybe… Just maybe if she waited long enough. If she wiped her tears and stayed strong, maybe Mama would come back for her.

The miqo’te scanned Lyna’s expression, looking distraught. It was apparent he was trying to figure out what to do. He couldn’t just leave a crying child in the middle of the sidewalk. People were starting to look at them with concern. He eyed a bench nearby and pointed at it. “Let’s sit over there, okay? We could wait for your parents together. How does that sound?”

Yeah, that sounded good.

Lyna nodded, following the miqo’te to the bench. She hopped on it and he sat next to her. 

“Here,” he rummaged through his pockets and handed her a handkerchief. “Let’s wipe those tears so when your parents find you, you can greet them with a smile.”

She wanted to tell him that probably wasn’t going to happen. Mama hated when she cried, but she hated it more when she smiled. Mama thought it meant she was making fun of her. But she took the handkerchief and wiped her face. She didn’t want to be crying anymore either. She had to be strong. If Mama did come back, she didn’t want to give her another reason to leave.

Lyna swung her legs back and forth and stared at the pavement again. She traced the cracks, noting people’s shoes as they crossed the lines. As time went on, the sounds around her got progressively more overwhelming. Her short ears flattened against her head. She stopped swinging her legs and tightened her grasp on the bench. 

“Do you know where your parents might have gone?”

The miqo’te spoke, tilting his head to face her.

Lyna didn’t look up. “Mama told me to stand very still and wait for her.”

“Did she… head into a store without you?” He sounded concerned.

Lyna bit her lip. “Mama left Lyna behind.”

Her heart sank as he heard her own voice say the words. As if that made it  _ more  _ true than it already was. 

She was all alone now.

Lyna felt a warm hand on her head, petting her gently. She finally looked up, meeting the miqo’te’s gaze properly for the first time. He had a kind expression and a young face. Piercing red eyes looked at her carefully with worry and optimism. He was smiling, too. Trying to raise her spirits. Tears globbed up around her eyes and she turned away again to wipe her face in the handkerchief he gave her. It was so snotty and wet now, but it was still soft and nice.

“You’re not alone. Let’s figure this out. I’ll help you.”

His voice was sweet. Sincere. It was the first time anybody had spoken to her like that. Mama always sounded like she was on the verge of crying. She tried to be sweet, but she was in so much pain all the time. Lyna only ever felt bad. But his voice didn’t make her feel bad. It made her feel some hope. 

“I’m G’raha.”

He introduced himself and gave her a hand to shake. Lyna caught it past her blurry, tearfilled vision and tried to shake back. Because that was the polite thing to do. 

“G’raha,” she repeated. “I’m Lyna.”

He laughed to himself and it was such a gentle chuckle. “Alright then, Lyna. Come on,” He stood up, and extended his hand out for her to hold. “Let’s look for your mother together.”

Lyna nodded, hopping off the bench and taking his hand.

She knew they wouldn’t find her. She was long gone. But G’raha had no way of knowing that. She couldn’t blame him. He just wanted to help her.

And that? Right now? It was everything to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to start this fic with these two chapters since G'raha and Lyna are the characters we'll be seeing for a while. I hope you all enjoy my interpretation of their relationship. Found Family tropes are extremely important to me and close to my heart. I'll be updating again in a few days!


	3. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A'gust has a crush on the cute miqo'te who takes the same train every morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to wait so long before posting this chapter, but I literally had a mental breakdown and then the Pandemic happened so... It's been a Trip, y'all. Anyway! Here's a chapter introducing our 3rd POV character, my WoL A'gust Fen. Hopefully it won't take me as long to post the next bit.

Today, his hair was a bit messy and his collar disheveled. You could see a bit of collarbone poke out from the gap, as if he’d forgotten that button while getting ready that morning. He did seem like he was in a bit of a rush. And he seemed tired. It took him a couple of minutes to catch his breath as he took his usual spot in the train. The seat right across you, right next to the doors.

After he caught his breath, he attempted vaguely to fix his appearance. He folded his collar proper, buttoned up and attempted to contain his messy hair in a low ponytail. You watched, mildly impressed, as he took off his glasses and put on contacts while the train was moving. A pity, because you were enjoying his messy morning look at lot. It was refreshing and new. And somehow, it felt like you were peering into his life  _ just  _ a little bit more than usual.

In the span of five minutes, the red-haired miqo’te across you went from stressed and tired-looking working adult to prim and proper office worker. It was like watching a magical girl transformation. You were enthralled. As if you weren’t already enthralled by him in the first place.

Alright.

_ Alright. _

Today’s the day August.  _ Today  _ you’ll say ‘good morning!’ 

Your grip around your guitar case tightened. Palms sweaty. Heart beat fast. Lips dry. It felt like your voice was stuck in your throat. Ugh. Come on! It wasn’t that hard! You were both in the same train every morning. He  _ always  _ sits across you. It wouldn’t be weird to share a polite ‘good morning’. It wouldn’t. 

Or was that just something you were trying to tell yourself so you’d have an excuse to say ‘hi’? That’s just it, isn’t it?

The redhead took a pair of earphones out of his bag to listen to music. A few taps on his phone later, he was gently humming and swaying to the melody. You wondered every day what he was listening to. If only you sat close enough to peer over. If only you could see what it was he was smiling at every morning on his screen.

Because that’s how it happened, didn’t it? The first time?

You don’t know how long you’d been taking the same train. 

It was one morning, several months ago. The train was distressingly packed due to a delay. It was nearly full by the time you got on, forcing you to stand by the door.  _ He  _ was standing on the platform two stations later, looking troubled. The train was full, but he  _ needed  _ to get on. He probably couldn’t afford to be late for work. So, you moved a bit, just to leave him enough space to get on. The people behind you protested, but well, the doors closed just fine, didn’t they?

It was Spring then. He was wearing a light brown coat and thick black-framed glasses. His hair was a gorgeous shade of muted red. Smooth, pale skin. Thin lips. Piercing red eyes that looked up at him and narrowed as he smiled politely to thank him for the spot.

Your voice was caught in your throat then too and you could barely manage a stoic nod of acknowledgement before the red-haired miqo’te continued on with his life.

You were in that position for seven stations. The back of his head alarmingly close to your nose. His smell had stuck with you since. A mix of gently burning birch and hot, steaming caramel. Your shoulders would brush whenever there was a bit of a bump, but you had no further interaction with him for the rest of that trip. He got off before you and you watched him walk away wondering if you’d ever see him again.

You did.

The very next day. He sat right across you. And the day after that, too. You knew nothing about him, but every day you grew more desperate to. What did he do for a living? He seemed young, but he wore a suit and went to work every weekday. It had to be an office job. He usually looked pretty fresh, but some days he’d get on the train looking like the living dead, as if he hadn’t slept at all the night before. But it was never consistent. Did his job just get randomly busy sometimes? 

And sometimes… sometimes he’d look at his phone with the most angelic smile. Red eyes full of pure affection. Like he was looking at something precious. It killed you not knowing what that was. A picture of a loved one? A really good cat gif? Who knew! You didn’t! You wished you did! It was a smile that sent sparks all over your body. So gentle. So sincere. The kind of smile that made you feel you could do  _ anything.  _

You were hopelessly in love with that smile.

You wished you knew his name.

Good morning, you would say. We take the same train every morning. Have you noticed? 

You practiced it in your head every morning, waiting for him to arrive. And today, like every day preceding it, you lost your nerve. There was a clear window to say his piece before he put his earphones in and you missed it every damn day.

Good going, August.

Well.

There was still tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS, Kudos to whoever can guess the Honeyworks song this chapter is based on. Hehe.


	4. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyna gets used to living with G'raha.

After six months of living with him, Lyna knew exactly  _ three  _ pertinent facts about her guardian. 

One, that G’raha Tia, by all means, seemed like a totally ordinary miqo’te, living a totally ordinary life. He worked an ordinary office job. A job that demanded his attention five days a week, from 9 in the morning to 5 in the evening and, only occasionally, some weekday nights until around 11PM. Those were the drinking parties with coworkers that typically had G’raha coming home drunk and giggly.

Two, that there was a pretty wide gap between his outside personality and his personal one. Around coworkers (which were the only people Lyna ever saw G’raha interact with… did he even have any friends?), he was totally professional. A well-put together adult who took care of all his responsibilities in a timely manner, who didn’t seem to have any interesting hobbies or past-times outside of work. But Lyna knew how bad G’raha was in the mornings. How he would often stay up late. How, even though he wasn’t a terrible cook, he often made a mess in the kitchen. How he worked really hard to make it look like he  _ wasn’t  _ working that hard. 

G’raha was endlessly kind and generous with her. He was doing his best to be a proper guardian, doing research while she wasn’t looking to make sure he was feeding her right, taking the right distance from her, while also making sure she knew she could count on him for anything. He was  _ barely  _ an adult himself, but he refused to show her any vulnerability. As far as Lyna was concerned, he had to be Mature and Composed.

And G’raha  _ was  _ a good parent. He really was. 

But,  _ three. _

The walls in G’raha’s rooms were  _ literally  _ plastered in posters of the same person. The lead singer of a band he was in love with. The one nicknamed the “Warrior of Light” in a band called “The Scions”. Lyna knew them vaguely. There were people in her class who liked them a lot too. Some of their songs played on the radio even. But the amount of merchandise G’raha owned? It was clearly an obsession.

G’raha often stayed up late rewatching their concerts or hunting the internet for some obscure piece of merchandise he hadn’t yet gotten his hands on. Some nights, he’d be out past midnight waiting in line for special releases. 

Lyna was the only person in G’raha’s life who knew about this side of him.

And she didn’t begrudge him for it. She loved seeing him happy. Nine times out of ten if he was smiling and giggling at his phone it was because he was looking at a photograph of the Warrior of Light. 

Besides.

(And she’d never admit this to anyone.)

“Lyna! Dinner’s ready.”

Lyna got up from the kotatsu to wander over to the dinner table. G’raha was bringing over a large pot of curry from the stove. Lyna promptly started gathering up plates and utensils to set the table with. Then, when she finished, she scooped some rice from the cooker onto both their places before sitting down in her spot. G’raha sat down across her, opening the pot up and letting Lyna ladle some curry for herself first before getting some for himself.

Lyna looked at her plate, admiring the uneven potato pieces and carrots cut up into hearts because she had gifted G’raha one of those special cutters a few weeks ago.

“Is it good?”

The little viera took a bite and smiled. “It’s delicious!”

G’raha smiled back.

Besides. 

She was glad she had the world’s cutest dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are all going to be vignettes... which is probably weird pacing-wise, but it's a necessary detour.


	5. Limited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G'raha stands in line.

It was 8PM and there were already 23 people ahead of him in the line. Twenty-three. G’raha wished he could’ve arrived sooner, but work held him up and there was no way he could spin ‘waiting in line for a midnight release so I could get the bonus items’ as some kind of family emergency. If he told Cid, he was sure the guy wouldn’t even understand the concept. Why would you line up hours before midnight in the cold _just_ for an album you could buy online? Cid wouldn’t get it. It wasn’t _just_ an album. This store in particular was carrying _fifty_ of the limited edition collectible cards. Printed on high-quality cardstock, with _unique_ holo-foil patterns.

G’raha had already pre-ordered the album from the eight stores it was available in so he could get all the covers, but  _ this  _ store was the only one in town carrying the collectibles and they were offering it  _ only  _ to the first fifty people who get the album physically. It was a do or die situation, really. G’raha refused to lose his chance to get a special foiled Warrior of Light. Not when he missed the last album’s set. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He was getting the damn card  _ now.  _

He was 24th in line. Not bad. Not bad. Unless something went  _ horribly  _ wrong, there was no way he’d  _ not  _ get  _ a  _ card. The problem was getting the  _ right  _ one. There were only fifty total and no one was sure how many of each Scion would be available. It was distinctly possible that none of the Warrior of Light would be left by the time his turn came around.

If that happened…. HHHHH…  _ if  _ that happened. G’raha wasn’t sure  _ what  _ he’d do.

It had taken him eight months, a week and three days to track down someone willing to trade him the limited card from last year’s album. G’raha had gone through  _ hoops  _ for it. He’d gotten lucky enough to buy a Thancred card from someone who was selling merch they didn’t want anymore. It was a decent price. The seller probably didn’t know how much it was  _ actually  _ worth and G’raha was glad he didn’t have to waste  _ too  _ much money on the purchase. 

He hoped someone out there would be willing to trade a Warrior of Light for a Thancred, but weeks of trying proved difficult. Most of the people he messaged came back with ‘sorry, it’s y’shtola or bust’. Ugh.

What G’raha ended up having to do was sellback the Thancred card to a particularly desperate person who paid  _ twice  _ the amount it normally went for in order to buy an Alisaie card which he  _ then  _ managed to trade for a WoL. Eight months of his life. 

G’raha couldn’t live through that kind of torture again. 

Thankfully, it was pretty cold tonight. That must have been enough to deter the casuals from showing up. It was only November, but the city was swept in such a brisk cold already, making G’raha mildly worried for the winter to come. Still, the threat of a snow storm wouldn’t be enough to chase him away.

The red-haired miqo’te walked up to the table set up at the front of the store to pick up a line number. Twenty-four. Just like he counted. He tucked it away safely and proceeded to loiter about like everyone else there.

Alright, four hours.

G’raha’s turn came at precisely sixteen minutes past midnight. 

“Still have Warrior of Lights left?” He asked the register person nervously. 

“Yep! The last one!” 

G’raha’s heart stopped.

He watched the clerk pulled out the album first, then the card itself, wrapped in clear plastic to keep it safe. They put both in a bag, then rang up his bill, which G’raha paid before calmly leaving the store with his loot. As soon as he was outside, he carefully put the package in his bag before dashing off to the station to catch the last train. Only after securing a seat and making sure no one was around to see him, he pulled out the card from his bag.

The Warrior of Light in all their glory, wearing surprisingly well-made looking fantasy armor. The foil on his card had a sparkle-shaped pattern that reflected beautifully as he angled the card under the train’s cold neon light. 

G’raha held up his prize, smiling brightly at it before kissing it with immense relief and satisfaction. It was his. Oh, how glad he was that it was  _ his.  _

“The last one…” He giggled.


	6. Unrequited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G'raha sends a letter.

Unrequited love  _ could  _ hurt.

But it didn’t have to.

At the very least, G’raha reveled in it. He savored the fruitlessness of his affections like a particularly good dessert. He’d think about it all day while it sat in his fridge waiting for him to come home. Except, in this case, he’d never eat it. He couldn’t. He didn’t need to. Somehow, just the thought of the pudding in his fridge  _ existing  _ generated enough serotonin for him to last a whole lifetime.

_ I love you. _

_ I love you. _

_ I love you. _

It was a ringing bell in his heart every time he thought about them. Their smile, their voice. The strength and emotion of their performances. Sometimes, he thought about it  _ so hard  _ it felt like his whole essence would burst at the seams. G’raha found strength in this hopeless, hopeless love. It was the thought that got him out of bed in the morning, the fire that kept him going throughout the day. 

_ I love you. _

He’d been trying for weeks to put it into words. Dozens of evenings sitting under the kotatsu, writing. He’s wasted so much paper, but everything that came out just felt inadequate. How do you thank someone for your  _ literal life  _ without sounding like a creepy, overbearing fan? It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all. He loved them. He loved them. He loved them. But it was just that.  _ That  _ feeling was so overwhelming he didn’t have the space to think about anything else.

_ Hello? How are you doing? I hope you’re doing well.  _

It’s not like he was writing to a friend. What was he thinking? 

But part of him didn’t want to churn out the same words he knew countless others would’ve written to them already. He wanted to give the Warrior of Light even just a measure of the happiness they gave him. What words could possibly do that?

He’s sure it couldn’t be easy. Being a public figure. Being someone that everyone admired. Did that get heavy sometimes? They put smiles on so many people’s faces every day. Were they making sure to protect their own smile? Were they taking care of themselves? He was sure none of their fans would like it if they pushed themselves too hard.

Eventually, G’raha finished the letter. He rewrote it five times, until he was happy with his handwriting. Folded it neatly. Put it in an envelope. Now, he just had to mail it to the Scions’ PO box.

He stood in front of the mailbox for a  _ while  _ before finally racking up enough nerve to drop it in. And, even then, it took someone coming up behind him and tapping their feet impatiently while he struggled. He felt Regret as soon as the letter fell into the pit of darkness. It was gone now, mixed in with hundreds of other letters. He couldn’t take it back now.

Part of him hoped the Warrior of Light would never read it. Part of him hoped they would.

It was tough work. Being in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is the last vignette. Plot begins soon.


	7. Autograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August meets a fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cracks fingers* It's finally time for the fun to start. If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope you like my baby August as much as I do. He's near and dear to my little heart. I promise it's going to get exciting with some REAL chapters from here on out.

“I don’t know if I can do this. What if they realize I’m a fraud and we lose all our fans in one go? I’d never be able to forgive myself. There are so many songs I still want to sing. Oh no. Am I going to have to change my whole identity to perform again? That’s too much to think about. This is impossible. Alisaie, tell Alphi I’m leaving. Tell everyone I’ve fallen horribly ill with a very contagious virus and I’ll be back tomor--”

“You are staying right here, idiot.”

August spun around to leave. The dressing room door opened and a white-haired miqo’te grabbed him by the collar before he could step out.

“Oof!” His ears folded against the top of his head, dejectedly. “Y’shtola…”

She sighed and shook her head. “All you need to do is smile August. No one is going to think you’re a fraud.”

“But!”

Alisaie gave him a hearty pat on the back. “Yeah, relax. They’re only fans.”

_ Only fans _ , she says. Fans are the scariest. 

In a few minutes, they were going to leave this dressing room, walk down a very long corridor into a convention hall room booked for this autograph session. It was a longtime coming. 

Their little band has been active for a little over a year. In town, they were pretty popular. All their local gigs sold out and people were starting to know about The Scions of the Seventh Dawn even outside the Crystarium. Their fans have been begging for some kind of meet-and-greet. An event August wanted deeply to avoid. His bandmates understood his anxiety and they were all hesitant about it at first. They were convinced not more than a dozen people would show up. It tooks weeks of Alphinaud convincing them the numbers didn’t lie. They were hitting consistent listens on streaming sites. Their fans were active and responsive on all the social media platforms that mattered. 

Their growing popularity got harder and harder to deny. Their small gigs always had people lining outside the door hoping to listen even for just a little bit. They were getting countless deals from recording labels hoping to sign them. It was to the point they needed to hire Urianger to take care of the management side of things because Y’shtola was running herself ragged doing it by herself.

There was no way a small, comfortable meet-and-greet  _ wouldn’t  _ be successful.

Still, August refused the idea. He was vehemently opposed. It was 100% fear. Fear that he wouldn’t live up to the expectations  _ all  _ these people had of him. He didn’t want to disappoint them and he was sure he would.

But he couldn’t keep being selfish. He wasn’t the only person in the band after all. His refusal and fear was preventing everyone else’s fans from meeting them. And August felt bad about that.

“Oh, the door’s open. Are you all ready?” Alphinaud walked into the room. “We’re all set up now.”

“Great!” Alisaie clapped.

“And Thancred?”

“He just arrived and is waiting out there already.”

August sank. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. They’re only fans. He repeated Alisaie’s words to himself as they all made their way to the hall. 

When they stepped in, the sound was overwhelming. What seemed like a needlessly big room for them looked  _ full  _ as he stepped out the door. There was a rather large booth set up with a long table. At one end, he spotted Ryne and Urianger taking care of the merchandise. They waved and August waved back enthusiastically, forgetting his nervousness for just a moment.

It quickly returned when Alphinaud walked them over to their spots. 

Thancred was already sitting down. “Yo.”

“How was work?” Y’shtola asked casually as they sat down.

“Eh, the usual.”

“Whatever that means. Why won’t you tell us where you’re working anyway? You’re so dramatic.” Alisaie rolled her eyes.

Up until then, August had avoided looking directly at the overwhelming crowd of people lined up some meters away from the tables. Properly organized with the help of posts and ropes. But, when he sat down, he couldn’t run anymore. There were droves of people lined up, all cheering as they took their seats. They all seemed very excited for things to get going. August wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“It’s organized so that there’s a line for each of you. The only things you’re allowed to sign are the albums and photos from the official photoset. Every fan gets thirty seconds.” Alphinaud gave them the run-down.

“Have it down to the seconds, huh?” Thancred snorted, like that was something he expected from Alphi in the first place, but he was still surprised. 

“Well, if we don’t limit it somehow, getting through this line is going to be impossible. All the better for August’s anxiety too.”

August melted in his seat. “Sorry.”

“Let’s get this going then!”

August was pretty sure his soul left his body at some point because the next hour felt like a blur. Droves of fans came and went. All of them enthusiastically using their thirty seconds to make sure August knew how much they loved him and his music. It was humbling, but his mind raced with doubt and uncertainty. He couldn’t possibly take all the credit. He was just the face of the group. He didn’t work nearly as hard as the other members. 

But he kept smiling, like Y’shtola told him. He did his little trick of looking at everyone’s eyebrows so it  _ looked  _ like he was giving them eye contact. He thanked everyone with as much sincerity he could muster while fighting the urge to climb on the table and yell that he was a fraud and didn’t deserve all this praise and affection.

All sorts of people came by. From young teenagers, to working adults. There were some kids who came with the parents. Many of them told him stories about how they discovered the Scions and how happy they are to be fans. They wished them luck on their future endeavors, expressed excitement in their upcoming concert. Good luck! Work hard! We’re looking forward to your new song! The demo sounded great! Your voice changed my life!

It was a lot. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” Alisaie leaned over to check on him.

August laughed. “It’s.. it’s not that bad, I guess.”

She smiled. “Good to hear. Keep it up. We’re halfway through.”

The next person to come up looked more nervous than August did. Red ears poked out of the cap that hid most of their face and their tail wrapped around them close. 

There were a few of these types already and August always tried to lighten it up with basic small talk. He flashed them his signature stage smile. “I hope the wait wasn’t too bad.”

“O-oh… Uh… No, it…” They stammered, their body stiffening up with more anxiety. Thin lips pressed together as they continued to avoid eye contact. Their hands were shaking around the vinyl they were holding. After a moment, they held it out, head still lowered in an overly polite bow. “I-I know you’re only supposed to be signing the albums and photo sets but this…”

August eyed the vinyl. It was a limited collection they released last year as part of their first EP promotion run. There were only ten of them out there and they never made any more because they were expensive and not super popular.

August was impressed and incredibly flattered. “That’s… wow!”

“Oh,  _ no way! _ ” It was Alisaie again. “Hey, Y’shtola! Thancred! Check this!”

The other two also leaned in to look at the vinyl, impressed. “Wow, you must be some kind of super fan to have this one.” 

“No kidding!” 

“We should all sign it.”

“Alphinaud might get mad at us for that. Isn’t it preferential treatment or whatever?”

“Yeah, but look at this thing. It’s in mint condition.”

August watched the fan’s reaction as they bantered. They went from nervous, to vaguely happy but trying to play it cool. Their thin lips stretched into a tentative smile and August could’ve sworn he’d seen that expression before.

But it was hard to say. This person was keeping their eyes firmly planted on the ground. 

“I’m signing it!” Alisaie announced as he gently took the vinyl from the fan’s hands and signed her name under herself on the cover.

Thancred shrugged, following suit. “Well, I suppose you deserve it. Thanks for the support.”

“Indeed,” Y’shtola nodded, also signing.

Leaving only August. The rest of the Scions returned to their own seats, leaving him some space to talk to this fan who was now fidgeting with an obvious aura of happiness. August finally signed his own name on the vinyl and handed it back.

“I…” They started. Their voice a little less nervous and a lot more awestruck. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“I hope so! Your support really means a lot.” And August truly felt like he meant this one.

The fan looked up a little, giving August a full view of their smile. 

Soft. Angelic.

“Thank  _ you _ !” The red-haired miqo’te beamed, bowing and then quickly scurrying away. He’d taken more than thirty seconds and had a vague awareness of the growing frustration behind him.

August watched them run off, bewildered. His heart stuck in his chest. He did recognize that expression. It was a face he saw almost every morning on the train.

The face of the miqo’te he harbored a secret crush on for literally the past six months.

Oh boy.

Fuck.

And he didn’t even ask him his  _ name. _


	8. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G'raha forgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind comments everyone! I really appreciate it ;u; I've been afraid of posting this fic tbh because it's so self-indulgent, but I'm glad some folks out there are enjoying it. Anyway, this chapter is going to be Very Familiar to those who have read "A Bunch of Daffodils" but we'll be going in a whole new direction after this. I'm trying to build something here that hopefully pays off in the end so, stick around for the whole ride.

G’raha dreamed of a distant land with lush lavender trees, basking in an eternal pink glow under a bright sky of everlasting light. People crossing each other in a busy courtyard wished each other ‘good night’ as blazing rays shone through huge, gorgeous glass structures that decorated the city. They minded their own business, going about their errands without any sense of threat or urgency. It was an ordinary day. Elezen and Miqo’te wandered around carrying paper bags full of groceries. Viera and Hrothgar chatted under the glow of a massive blue crystal that rotated slowly in the middle of what seemed like the city’s main intersection. Past that, the area opened up into a sprawling space where even more people stood around. Folks of all races gathered in armored uniforms by a grand staircase leading up to the most beautiful construction G’raha had ever seen. 

A tower that pierced the white sky with shining, ephemeral blue. He knew its name as soon he looked up, as soon as he saw the scintillating reflections of the sun skate off its walls. The tower twinkled against the light, singing with unfathomable magic. His gaze traced its familiar shape against the horizon. He knew where this was. It was on the tip of his tongue, something so obvious. 

But when G’raha opened his eyes, it was gone. The city. The crystal. The tower. Its name.

He was in an unfamiliar room, sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, waking up to an unfamiliar ringtone. The bed was smaller than what he was used to and not as comfortable. It creaked as he shifted to find the source of the ringing. A phone that didn’t belong to him. The time blared at him in blinding white numbers. 6:30AM. Morning. Early. His head was pounding. His throat was dry. G’raha tapped the red ‘snooze’ button on the phone before absent-mindedly shoving it away. 

He curled up, turning around on the bed to face a window onto a small balcony with an unfamiliar view of the downtown cityscape. Tall buildings peppered the skyline as the sun rose up behind them. Rays came in through half-opened blinds casting warmth into what appeared to be a rather small apartment room. His eyes struggled to stay open. He blinked, trying to shake the fatigue off.

Clothes were strewn about the floor haphazardly. He noticed his bag on the chair in the corner, his coat folded neatly on the back. The light of his own phone blinking through the pocket. A text message? His phone was still in ‘do not disturb’ mode. It wouldn’t ring this early, thankfully. G’raha brought his hands up to his face, hoping to rub the tired from his eyes. He blinked a few more times and straightened up. The thin sheet covering his body fell to his lap. His body was sore. Exhausted. And, perhaps most importantly, naked.

A thought dawned on him.

G’raha stretched his arms and looked around the room again, more carefully this time. It held minimal personality. There was a dresser with an old speaker and a stack of CDs. There was a painting on the wall of a winter landscape, a shield leaning on a stone memorial. It wasn’t even framed, just laminated and slightly crooked. The one thing that stood out most was the mess of a desk in a corner. Papers scattered all over. Crumpled, some folded. Headphones. A black pen. A flashy red guitar.

Hm.

He could hear movement nearby. In another room. The next one over. The sound of curtains sliding and the sound of water running. The shower. G’raha ears perked up and froze as if the notion of another person being around suddenly awoke him to the danger of the situation he was in. He struggled to retrace his steps, but his head was pounding and his last conscious memory was a blur. 

There was a party after work. They had just closed a huge project. Cid was so proud of them. They went out for drinks. It was getting late. He needed to get home before Biggs and Wedge could convince him to sing another song. But, clearly, this wasn’t home. He didn’t get home. Where was he? Whose place was this? G’raha mind raced as logic and rationality pierced through the fog.

Muffled singing came through the walls from the bathroom. G’raha shot up, holding the blanket around himself for comfort. Clothes. He needed to find his clothes and throw them on. Quickly, quick. He needed to get out of here before that person came out. He didn’t want to know who it was. He couldn’t face them right now. He couldn’t. He--

G’raha scrambled around for his clothes and got dressed in a panic. He grabbed his coat and bag, digging around to make sure everything important was in there. The sound of the shower stopped. The curtains pulled again. The faint humming still reached him. It was a song he knew, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He needed to go. He pulled his wallet out, taking out a five and using the pen on the desk to quickly write ‘I’m sorry’ on it. G’raha dashed out of the room without a second thought, just as he heard the bathroom door creak open, he ran down the short hallway to the front door and bolted out of the apartment. 

He didn’t look back until he reached the streets. 

When he got to a corner, he looked around for street names, hoping to figure out where he was. Thankfully, he was only a few train stops from home. He could easily get a change of clothes before heading into work. It was early enough. He exhaled with relief. Finally feeling some measure of safety, he took out his phone. He had a few missed calls from Cid. One from Rammbroes even. Why? He checked his texts first. Where did you go? Did you head home? Are you safe? G’raha rolled his eyes. What was he? His parent? Gods. Then, he checked his voicemail. A mildly worried one from Rammbroes. Apparently Cid called him in tears in the middle of the night because G’raha had ‘vanished’ from the party and how he’d never forgive himself if G’raha passed out in an alleyway somewhere under a pile of garbage. He was about to follow up with the assurance that he understood G’raha wasn’t a baby and didn’t need to be checked on like this, but regardless-- The rest of it cut off.

They were always treating him like the kid in the pack. It was silly. They weren’t even that far apart in age, were they? Still. He appreciated the concern. He quickly texted Cid back.  _ Don’t worry. I’m fine. Get a grip, old man.  _ It would probably be a few hours before Cid read it. The way he drank last night, he half expected not to see him at work today, but who knows.

G’raha Tia went through the motions of his routine and pushed the events of last night to the back of his mind. There would be time to think about that later. 

He made his way home, showered, put on some fresh clothes and promptly went to work like it was any other morning. Took the subway. Rode the bus. Ten minute walk to the building he worked in. Got a croissant at the cafe downstairs. Hopped into a crowded elevator up to his floor. 

G’raha worked for a rather large architectural firm, in one of the many R&D teams, doing what amounted to admin and data-entry work. His job title so loosely related to his field of study it would be tragic if he didn’t actually enjoy the job and the folks he worked with. He was a historian at heart. Building and construction was largely out of his depth, but he did enjoy research and there was a lot of that here.

His phone rang as soon as he sat down at his desk. Magical timing. It was Cid. Was calling really necessary? He could’ve just answered his text. 

“Hello,”

“You idiot! You damned fool! I thought you died!” Cid’s voice was dry and raspy. He was clearly trying to yell, but the words came out weak.

“That’s… going pretty far, I think?”

G’raha could hear Cid drink something and clear his throat. “Wait, gods, sorry. My head is  _ pounding. _ ”

“I didn’t think you’d even be up yet. When did you all go home?”

“Can’t remember. It was… Wait, no.” Cid stopped mid-sentence. “I’m getting off-track. I’m supposed to be scolding you. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“I can’t imagine why, but thank you for the concern.” G’raha put down the phone for a second to plug his earphones in. 

“... --said he saw you hop in a taxi with someone else. You don’t have any other friends, who in the seven hells would you have hopped into a taxi with?” 

He heard the tail end of whatever Cid was saying. “That’s uncalled for. I definitely have friends…” He stopped. 

“No you don’t.”

G’raha sighed. He was right. “Yeah, I don’t. Anyway, what’s your point? I hopped into a taxi with someone… else…” 

The subject of their conversation finally dawned on him. What happened last night. He hadn’t thought about it yet. What was the last thing he remembered? He was lightheaded, so he went to get fresh air. Biggs and Wedge were going to make him sing again, but his throat was hoarse enough and everything was spinning. He was outside and then… something… something… some… one? Someone checked up on him. Asked him if he was okay. Is that who he hopped into a cab with? Why? 

“Hey, well, excuse me for being worried about your drunk ass driving off with some strange man.” Cid sighed, snapping G’raha back to reality. “I guess since you’re okay, it’s fine. But what even happened to you?”

Gods, he wished he knew. 

“I, uh, shared a cab with someone heading the same way I was.” He lied.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Great, then. I’m going back to sleep.”

“You’re not coming into work today, are you?”

“No way.”

G’raha rolled his eyes as he said ‘bye’ and hung up.

The red-headed miqo’te was no fool. The fog in his mind had started to clear when he got into work. He’d just been forcing himself not to think about it, to keep the speculation in the back of his thoughts. But it was there, hovering, and he couldn’t deny that part of conscience was aware of the distinct and obvious possibility.

Accepting that possibility meant acknowledging that he had it in him to sleep with someone he’d never met. And that he also had it in him to completely and absolutely forget that person’s face. It was a hard pill to swallow. And G’raha couldn’t process that right now.

So, he didn’t. 


	9. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyna dreams of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates! I'm still working on the next big chapter so I decided to post a little vignette in the meanwhile.

Flashes of clarity shrouded in shadow. 

Feelings and sensations so visceral it’s as if the horrible thing was happening again. 

It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. 

She was safe.

No one could hurt her now.

Lyna woke up in a room that was beginning to be familiar to her. The light blue walls and fluffy white clouds she and G’raha painted last month were comforting, even in the dark. The ceiling was dimly lit by glow-in-the-dark stars, carefully placed to match Lyna’s favorite constellations. Her gaze traced the shape of the Bole, protector of the weak, the world tree from which all life sprung. Across from the Bole was the Arrow, the wind who guides those lost at sea, delivering souls trapped in the mire of confusion.

Lyna listened to her breath and focused on her thoughts. They were like butterflies, beautiful and fragile, but strong enough to weather the worst of storms. Inhale, exhale. She thought about G’raha, how warm his hugs were and how soft his voice was when he spoke. You’re safe, he’d say. 

“I’m safe,” she whispered to herself.

When she calmed down, the young viera hopped out of the bed, still wrapped in her massive blanket. She walked quietly to the door and gently left the room. She peered down the hall, finding a cold blue light glowing in the distance. As she approached, the sound of someone snoring softly got louder and louder.

G’raha had fallen asleep at the kotatsu again. His fingers still on the keyboard of his laptop, his back leaning on the couch behind him. Lyna plopped herself next to him. She glanced at the laptop, noting that G’raha had just bought tickets to the Scions concert. Two tickets. Lyna smiled, pushing G’raha’s hand aside so she could close the laptop. Then, she nestled against his arm and closed her eyes.

That’s right. She was safe now. 

She wasn’t alone.


	10. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyna meets a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a 3-in-1 update for y'all!

G’raha’s behavior was stranger than usual as of late.

He was spacing out a lot. Getting lost in his thoughts and staring at nothing while Lyna tried to talk to him. He’d apologize for not paying attention, but it still made her feel bad. Was he distracted by something? Did something bad happen at work? Was… was he upset at her for some reason?

Lyna didn’t want to think it was the last thing. She’d just gotten used to living with him. She trusted him. G’raha told her he’d always be honest and wouldn’t lie to her. So, if it wasn’t her, what then? 

He was always sighing and randomly making alarmed noises like he was recalling something upsetting. Lyna wanted to help him. She didn’t want G’raha to suffer or be upset. She tried asking him about it a couple of times, but he kept laughing it off and insisting it was no big deal.

She didn’t believe him.

“You won’t forget about the meeting today, right?”

They were having breakfast. 

“The parent-teacher meeting. I remember.” G’raha nodded. He seemed better this morning.

“Good…” She exhaled.

“Is everything alright, Lyna?”

Lyna was a lot more nervous about the meeting than she let on. She didn’t want to worry G’raha because it seemed like he had a lot on his plate already, but she was also really nervous about him coming to her school and talking to her teacher. What if they asked him weird questions? Her own mother never came to any of those meetings. She didn’t really know what they talked about in them. What if they bully him because he’s not her real dad? What if they find a reason to take her away from him? 

“It’s going to be okay. The teacher isn’t going to say anything bad about you, are they?”

“Don’t think so…” Lyna trailed off.

G’raha leaned over the table to pat her head. “Relax, then. I’ll wait for you after the meeting so we can go home together, sound good?”

She nodded.

But, somehow, she wasn’t reassured.

In class, Lyna couldn’t focus. Her heartbeat was in her ears. Every word the teacher said sounded like garbled nonsense. Every few minutes she needed to remind herself to breathe because it was as if her lungs forgot how to do that by itself. She didn’t know what was happening, but she wanted to run. Very, very badly. 

When the afternoon rolled around, she knew G’raha would’ve arrived already. He was probably in the meeting already. The pit in her stomach grew. She skipped lunch, sat at her desk and stared outside the window for a full hour without moving an inch. She didn’t even notice the bell ringing and study hall beginning. Their class rep had a few announcements and then the class was left to their own devices for the rest of the period. They were meant to study for the upcoming midterms. A classmate walked up to her, asking if they could exchange notes.

Lyna stood up suddenly. She felt like throwing up. 

“Are you alright?” Her classmate asked.

“Bathroom.”

Lyna bolted out of the classroom, eyes fixed on the floor as she ran to the bathroom. She was out of breath when she got there. She ran into a stall and stared into the toilet, expecting to throw up, but nothing happened. There was only the echo of her own haggard breathing and the sound of ambient plumbing. A thought crossed her mind.

She was out of the class now. She knew what room the parent-teacher meetings were happening in. She could… check in on them. That wouldn’t be bad, right? They wouldn’t find her anyway. She’d just… listen. Just to get rid of the bad feeling in her chest. Yeah… Yeah, that would help.

Lyna left the bathroom and made her way upstairs, to the office she knew her homeroom teacher would be talking to G’raha. The halls were empty as she crept up to the door and knelt down, pressing her ear against it to listen.

“With all due respect, sir, you are barely an adult yourself. Lyna is still very young. Don’t you think she should be with a family that can take better care of her?”

Lyna’s heart was in her throat.

“You work late quite often. It’s not safe for a child to be home alone, you know.”

It tore her insides out. 

She felt sick.

“As I understand it, her stay with you is supposed to be temporary anyway. Is it not?”

Lyna bolted. 

She ran down the hall, down the stairs back to the first floor and just continued running. Classes were in session. No one caught her running out as she made her way to the fields outside. The cold late autumn air hit her like a truck. Her coat and bag was still in the classroom. She had to go get it. She’d get sick like this. And that would only worry G’raha more. She didn’t want to give him any reason to give her up. If she just proved she was fine and could take care of herself then, he wouldn’t have to. She could stick with G’raha forever. They wouldn’t take her away. 

The viera stopped on the stairs leading down to the field. She sat down, curling her knees up to her chin and squeezed her legs. She shivered from the cold, but she didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to know how G’raha answered. If she disappeared now, maybe she’d never need to know. 

She just didn’t want to be a bother. She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want adults making decisions for her. Why couldn’t she do what made her happy?

“Hey… you’re from the grade school branch, aren’t you? What are you doing out here?”

A pretty girl in the middle-school uniform of their campus came up the steps. She had long strawberry blonde hair and delicate features. She pushed it behind her ear as she bent down in front of her. After noting Lyna’s expression, the older girl frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Lyna’s lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears. Her fluffy ears sank back.

“I… I don’t know,” Lyna just cried.

“Here,” The girl came up one step, handed her a handkerchief and sat next to her. “Cry it out. It’s going to be alright.”

And Lyna did. She wrapped her arms around the older girl who very kindly lent her lap and stroked her back gently as she cried. It was comforting.

“There, there.”

After some time, Lyna sniffled and straightened up, feeling some of the snot freeze as she wiped her face with the other girl’s handkerchief.

“I’m sorry...” 

The girl shook her head and offered her a smile. “It’s ok. Stuff happens. Are you feeling better?”

“A little…"

“Think you can get back to class? Oh, it might be ending just about now though…” 

The bell rang. She laughed lightly. “Come on, let’s get back inside. It wouldn’t be good if you got sick.”

She stood up and gave Lyna a hand. And, although she didn’t have to, the girl didn’t let go. She held Lyna’s hand tightly as they made their way back to the grade school’s main entrance. Students were starting to leave the building. Lyna remembered she was supposed to wait for G’raha so they could go home together. She squeezed the girl’s hand.

“Hey, want to see a cool trick?” The girl spoke up.

Lyna nodded tentatively. “Sure…”

The upperclassmen took out a pair of rubber knives from her jacket. “Alright, watch this.”

Lyna watched carefully as the girl started playing with the knives. She spun it around her fingers. Up and down. It danced between both her hands as she started spinning the second knife. She juggled both with surprising dexterity. Lyna watched, mesmerized. The knives looked like little birds, the way she was handling them. She threw them up intermittently and caught them behind her back, kicked them up with her foot and knee without batting a lash. It was a whole routine.

Lyna clapped. “That was so cool!”

“Wasn’t it?” She smiled.

“Wow! How’d you do it?”

“Lots of practice.”

“So I could do it too? If I practiced?”

The girl tucked the knives away and rolled up her sleeve in a flexing motion. “Of course!”

Lyna blinked. “Wow!” She grabbed the girl’s hands again. “What’s your name! Mine is Lyna.”

“It’s Ryne.”

“Can I see you again?”

“Yeah, of course! We go to the same school after all.”

Lyna beamed. “It’s a promise then!” She let go of Ryne’s hands. “Promise!” 

Ryne nodded. “Promise.”


	11. Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphinaud tries.

Alphinaud had a lot on his plate. 

After the success of the Scions’ meet-and-greet, it was full steam ahead towards concert preparations. The venue’s been booked, the date’s been chosen, the tickets were up for sale and they were going at a steady pace. If his projections were correct, they’d be out by next week, a full two months before the show. Everything was proceeding smoothly. There was just one problem.

August.

The face of their band, their lead singer, was in a rut.

The light-haired miqo’te was undeniably talented. His presence on stage made everyone else shine. He had a captivating aura that instantly attracted people to him. It was part of his innate charisma, a great skill for any artist to have. When he sang, you couldn’t help but listen. He had the kind of voice that tugged at your heart strings. Whatever emotion he wanted you to feel, you felt it. It was an experience-- one that motivated the whole band to keep going. 

And yet, confidence was something August lacked in droves. Inexplicably. The singer had no reason to doubt his skill, but he did. The Scions worked around it. They had to. They knew more than anyone that August’s music deserved to be heard. 

“It’s going to sound stupid.”

August hasn’t been his best at rehearsal. He was dejected and unmotivated. Worse, he hasn’t written anything in weeks. They were supposed to preview a few songs from their new album at the concert, but they had nothing. Yet. Supposedly.

The deadlines were becoming dangerous and Alphinaud believed it was about time they confronted their dear leader with the impending reality. So, here they were, sat a cafe near the studio they rented for rehearsals. August sat across him, face hidden behind an ostentatious pair of sunglasses and a big fluffy scarf.

“I’m in love.”

Alphinaud nearly spat out his drink. “You’re what?”

“In love,” August repeated. “See, I told you it was going to sound stupid.”

“What… What’s this have to do with your writer’s block?”

August shifted nervously in his seat. He looked around, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then leaned forward. “Ok, well, you see. He’s got this incredible smile. And these super piercing eyes. He has heterochromia, too. Like me. It’s what I noticed the first time we met. Well, I say  _ met,  _ but we haven’t actually met… I mean, sort of. He came to the signing last month.”

“August, you’re rambling.”

“There’s a point, I swear. Just listen.” He took a breath. “We used to take the same train, but a few months ago, he stopped for some reason. I didn’t think I’d see him again until that signing happened and  _ then  _ last week, I found him stumbling out of a bar in the Universalis district when I was heading home.”

Alphinaud let the miqo’te go on, hoping he’d get to the point eventually. He processed the wave of information slowly, attempting to pick up and retain only the important bits. August had fallen in love with a  _ fan _ ? Oof, well that was going to be dangerous. 

“It felt like  _ fate _ ! You know? The Crystarium is a big city after all, I figured, what were the chances I’d run into him again? I had to talk to him, so I did. Just to introduce myself. So I could learn his name. That’s all I wanted.”

They were going to track that person down. Make sure they weren’t some undercover journalist looking to make a scandal. The Scions were certainly popular enough to make the tabloids now. That kind of journalism would ruin August’s already fragile esteem.

“I think he must’ve mistaken me for someone else. He was pretty drunk. Maybe I looked like his boyfriend? I mean, why else would he just kiss me out of nowhere? A guy like him couldn’t possibly be single after all…”

Alphinaud did have a list of all the people who came to the signing. Thancred could narrow it down a lot with his resources. They just needed to make sure it wasn’t anyone with nefarious intentions. For August’s sake. He was pretty naive after all. 

“... it seemed dangerous to leave him alone and I was getting into a cab anyway, so I thought I could drop him home? It seemed like a good idea at the time but he couldn’t even tell me where he lived and I didn’t want to go through his things looking for an address… So, I ended up bringing him home.”

Gods, it was just like August to have writer’s block because he fell in love. Isn’t the opposite supposed to happen? Doesn’t love fuel song writing? 

“... then the next morning, he was just gone. He left a five dollar bill on my desk with a note that says ‘sorry’ and he was gone..”

Wait.

Alphinaud backtracked. “Sorry, you  _ what _ ?”

August stopped mid-sentence and looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean, what? Like I said, I was wondering if Thancred could…”

“No, not that.  _ You brought him home? _ ”

“Yeah, I--”

Alphinaud was really reeling now. “ _ You brought a drunk stranger  _ to your  _ apartment _ ?!” 

“When you put it that way, it sounds really predatory, doesn’t it?”

Alphinaud reached over the table to grasp August’s shoulders. “Did  _ anybody  _ see? Do you have any idea what a scandal this would be if anyone found out?”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad… besides…  _ he  _ kissed me. And it’s not like we  _ did  _ anything. Look, point is. I’ve been distracted trying to find him. I want to apologize… but all he left me is five dollars and a hole in my heart.”

Alphinaud sighed and sat back down. “This is a lot.”

August retreated, sheepish. “I don’t know why I’m making a big deal out of this either. Like, I get it. I could just leave this alone. Let us be like two ships in the night, or whatever. But I just… What if he thinks we slept together? I can’t bear the thought of him carrying that by himself. I  _ need  _ to apologize. Set the record straight. I just… I want to see him again, Alphy.”

“One song,” Alphinaud finally said.

“Huh?”

“You have to promise me at least  _ one  _ song, August. For the concert. I’ll see what I can find your mystery crush.”

“Really?! You’ll help me?”

“I can’t guarantee anything, but if finding him gives you enough peace of mind to write…” He sighed again. “I’ll try.”

“Thanks, Alphy! You’re the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of the 3-in-1 update. Poor Alphy. It's tough work being a manager lol.


	12. Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Face to face.

The words of Lyna’s teacher lingered in G’raha’s mind.

They were totally right, of course. G’raha  _ was  _ too young. Lyna probably  _ did  _ need a more stable household. It  _ wasn’t  _ good that he came home after her every day. It was all factually correct. But G’raha didn’t like it. He decided he was going to take responsibility for Lyna. He was going to take care of her. He didn’t want her to ever feel like it was okay to be abandoned. Never again. He promised himself that. But did it matter what he wanted if Lyna’s wellbeing was at stake? What would happen if social services finally managed to grab hold of family members that wanted to take her in? What would G’raha do then? He’d have no choice but to give her up, wouldn’t he?

That was the deal in the first place after all. 

G’raha sighed.

When did his life get so complicated?

On the bright side, it seemed like Lyna was doing pretty good lately.

She said she found someone to hang out with after school. A girl two grades above her. The news made him happy. Lyna didn’t talk about school much and, according to her teacher, she didn’t hang out with her classmates much either. She wasn’t bullied or anything and many of her peers tried to involve her more, but it just seemed like Lyna wasn’t interested.

Then, last night, Lyna asked if it was okay for her friend to come over. 

“Yeah, of course!”

The girl beamed. It was the happiest he’d seen her in a while.

It was early afternoon when the doorbell rang. Lyna hopped out of the kotatsu to answer the door. G’raha got up after her, slowly following and only getting to the door by the time Lyna already pressed the button to let her friend up.

“Ok, see you!” She said happily into the intercom as it clicked off.

“You sure are excited,” G’raha teased. 

Lyna unlocked the door, opening it so she could see her friend as soon as she came out of the elevator. She held the knob, twisting her head to stick a tongue out at G’raha. “Of course I am!” She exclaimed before promptly returning her attention to the hall.

The elevator dinged and voices echoed.

“You didn’t have to come all the way up here, you know.”

“I should at least say ‘hi’ to her parents, shouldn’t I?”

Two unfamiliar voices. One, G’raha figured, belonged to Lyna’s friend. The other...

“But what if they’re-- Ah! Lyna!” A strawberry blonde girl came running down the hall and wrapped Lyna in a friendly hug. 

“You’re here!” Lyna grinned. “G’raha, this is my friend Ryne.”

Ryne unwrapped herself from Lyna and gave G’raha a polite bow. “It’s nice to meet you! Thank you for letting me come over.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

Ryne was a sweet-looking girl. She wasn’t much taller than Lyna, but it was probably unfair to compare them, viera grew up quickly after all. And Lyna had mentioned her friend skipped a grade. 

Ryne looked over G’raha with mild confusion. She tried to hide it, afraid to seem impolite, but it was clear she was trying to figure out his relation to Lyna. That was fair. They didn’t look related and G’raha doubted Lyna would explain her family situation to others. He opened his mouth, ready to introduce himself, but was promptly interrupted by the second unfamiliar voice.

A voice that, closer, sounded more familiar than he initially thought. 

“Hi, hey, I just came to drop Ryne off and…”

G’raha looked up from Ryne, to the other person making their way to their door. He blinked.

A dark skinned miqo’te wearing a generic coat and a big fluffy scarf. He was in the middle of taking off his hat and sunglasses (it wasn’t even sunny outside), revealing the light pink hair underneath and a pair of cotton candy colored eyes.

He knew that face.

“Ah…” 

“You’re…”

An expression of shock matching his own manifested on the other miqo’te’s face. Recognition  _ and  _ confusion. G’raha didn’t understand what was going on. But it was  _ him.  _ It was really  _ him _ . The Warrior of Light. Lead singer of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. A’gust Fen.

A’gust closed the distance between them, grabbing G’raha’s hands in his. Pastel eyes full of hearts. He squeezed and, with that sweet voice of his, he spoke.

“I’ve been looking for you!”

G’raha gawked.

“What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Part 3 of this 3-in-1 update! I hope you're all enjoying the ride. It's about to get cheesy and disgustingly cute now that the boys have finally met.


	13. A Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyna has a friend over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you every one for the sweet comments! I really appreciate them. It's hard to stay motivated in these plague times but I'm really glad you've all been enjoying this little AU I'm spinning. This one's a bigger update than usual <3 Thank you all for your patience. I hope y'all continue to stick around.

Lyna’s apartment was big. Bigger than she’d anticipated. Down the hall was a door that led into a large open concept room that tripled as a living room, dining room and kitchen. There were stairs that led up to a loft with three bedrooms, all with suites. And there were two more closed rooms on the first level, plus an additional bathroom with a laundry suite. It was luxurious, to say the least.

But the apartment’s most stunning feature was the large wall-length window that took up nearly an entire side of the living room. It led onto a full balcony with a magnificent view of the city. Ryne looked around in awe as Lyna excitedly gave her the grand tour.

It shouldn’t surprise her that Lyna’s family was well-off though. Their school was a private institution, an expensive one at that. The only reason Ryne could afford being there was because she had a scholarship.

“I’ll get us something to drink. Is tea ok?” Lyna hopped over to the massive marble island that sat in the kitchen. 

Ryne walked over to the window to admire the view. “Um, sure!”

The little viera hopped on a little stool to fill up the kettle with water. While she waited for that to heat up, she rummaged through the shelves for a tea set and started preparing a tray.

“Sooo… who else lives here?”

“It’s just me and G’raha,” Lyna answered simply.

“G’raha… the miqo’te who greeted us at the door?”

Lyna nodded. “Mhm, he’s taking care of me.”

Ryne could tell from the viera’s tone that she didn’t want to elaborate. So, she didn’t press further. People had different familial situations after all. It’s not like she was living with her biological parents either. 

“What do you think was up with that whole thing earlier? It looked like A’gust and G’raha recognized each other.”

“A’gust? Oh, the poster guy…” 

The kettle sang a little melody. Lyna picked it up, carefully pouring the boiling water into two mugs for the both of them. When she finished, she picked up the tray and made her way to the living room.

“Poster guy?” Ryne repeated.

Lyna arrived and kneeled in front of the coffee table to set down the tray. “G’raha has posters of him all over this room. He’s a big fan of that band.” A thought crossed her mind at that moment. “Oh, why was poster guy dropping you off here anyway?

Ryne watched as Lyna opened the tea bags and put them in the mugs. Ryne gratefully accepted the one Lyna pushed in her direction. “Thanks and, um… Well, my dad-- I mean. My guardian is the drummer. In that band.”

“Whoa! Celebrity kid!” Lyna looked at her with big round eyes, impressed.

Ryne smiled. Why is it that Lyna seemed more impressed with her than the actual flesh celebrity who was on her doorstep earlier? “It’s not a big deal, but it’s kind of a secret at school.” She put a finger on her lips and winked. “So don’t tell anyone.”

Lyna nodded. “No worries. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

-0-

The words were caught in his throat.

What were you supposed to do when your idol is sitting right across you? 

G’raha had a hard time believing any of this was happening. He had barely processed the fact that  _ the  _ A’gust Fen was on his doorstep.

Lyna had invited both of them inside for tea, which was the polite thing to do, a fact G’raha had no time to appreciate in the moment because he was busy panicking. His mind flashed to the pile of Scions merchandise he had lying around. The albums he had lined up preciously in the living room. The posters of the Warrior of Light he had filled every inch of his room with. 

Now that he was (debatably) calmer and had ten minutes of silence to process the events of the last half hour, G’raha realized it wasn’t likely A’gust would even see his bedroom. He could have reacted like a  _ normal  _ person, invited him inside for a drink. He’d come all this way to drop Lyna’s friend off. The least he could was offer a cup of tea a proper introduction. Ugh, stupid, stupid. All he had to do was say he was a big fan if A’gust noticed the albums. You know, like a  _ normal  _ person.

Instead he panicked and practically screamed  _ ‘no _ !’ when Lyna only did what a  _ normal  _ person would do and invited their two guests into the apartment.

And now, here they were, sitting across each other in a cafe down the street, in total silence. A waitress eventually came by with their respective orders. A hot cocoa for A’gust and a latté for himself.

They picked a table in the corner of the shop, far from sight. Angled so that only G’raha could see A’gust’s face. That beautiful face. Those features he admired so much. The high cheekbones, the hint of a smile in his default expression. The straight jawline. Those full lips. And those bright, pastel eyes. The Warrior of Light’s expression was gentler up close than it had ever seemed to G’raha in the past. But then, he’d only ever seen A’gust in photos or from a distance. The only time they were ever close was at that signing event months ago. But A’gust must have seen hundreds of people that day… How could he possibly remember him?

What did A’gust mean ‘I’ve been looking for you’?

“You’re kind of embarrassing me here…” 

G’raha realized he’d been staring. “S-sorry! I just… I mean. I hope you’ll forgive me for earlier.”

“It’s alright! I didn’t want to intrude,” A’gust waved his hands. “I was really just dropping Ryne off. I didn’t think I’d… That you’d…”

They both stared down at their drinks. 

“Maybe… Maybe we should start by introducing ourselves?” G’raha stretched his hand across the small table. “I’m G’raha, Lyna’s guardian.”

A’gust stared for a moment, then returned the handshake and smiled. It was a gentle smile, without the usual radiance G’raha was used to seeing in photographs. 

“A’gust Fen. I’m a friend of Ryne’s… dad? He hates when we call him that actually. But what he doesn’t know can’t kill him, right?”

G’raha chuckled. “So, why were you dropping her off then?”

“Thancred’s out of town, so she’s been bunking at my place.”

Thancred, the drummer? He had a kid?

“She said she’d be fine on her own, but I had nothing to do anyway. Besides!” A’gust wrapped his hands around his mug and took a sip. When he put it down, his smile widened. Their gazes meeting properly for the first time. “I got to meet you again.”

Again?

G’raha took a sip of his own drink. “What do you mean ‘again’?”

A’gust’s expression changed. “Ah, so you really don’t remember then? I thought maybe you did and that’s why you wanted to talk out here…”

“Remember what?”

“Well, you know…”

“What?”

G’raha’s heartbeat quickened. An alarm rang in the back of his mind. 

“The bar? You stumbled out drunk and I...”

G’raha stood up.

“I gotta go.”

He slapped a five dollar bill on the table and quickly made for the door.

“Wait!”

Nope, nope, nope.  _ Nope.  _ Oh, no no no no…!

N o p e.

G’raha took brisk steady steps, made his way out the door of the cafe and kept going. Ignoring the desperate pleas of the man he left behind, who sounded vaguely like he was rushing to get up after him. G’raha didn’t stop. He continued down the block. Steps quickening when he heard the cafe door open again behind him. 

“G’raha! Wait!”

Oh  _ gods.  _ How could this happen? 

There’s no way. There’s no way. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Did he really? Did  _ they  _ really? What else is he supposed to think? G’raha woke up in his bedroom. Naked. Pain all over his body. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. But. G’raha still couldn’t. He didn’t want to. The thought was too much to bear.

That he could’ve met and fucked the Warrior of Light and not remember it.

“Wait up!” A’gust finally caught up. “Please… I… Listen, honestly, it’s… a really long story. But I just. I wanted you to know that I wanted to see you again. Every since you stopped taking the train… I didn’t think I’d ever see you again and then that night… you were just… Damn, this is really hard.”

What was he talking about?

G’raha’s thoughts swirled.

“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself… This is a lot, isn’t it? I’m sorry… I’ve been thinking about this for such a long time and now that it comes down to it, I have no idea how to words.” A’gust laughed nervously. 

His instincts were to run again before he made a  _ total  _ fool of himself. But G’raha found his feet firmly planted on the pavement, once again mesmerized by the person standing before him. He could really stare at that face forever. 

“Um, can we just… Can we be friends? Texting buddies? I mean, it’s fine if…”

Did that mean they’d have each other’s phone numbers?

“Yes!” G’raha spluttered out, more excited than he intended to seem. “Y-yes… that’s fine. Here,”

G’raha took his phone out, carefully, making sure A’gust wouldn’t see his background. They exchanged numbers.

“And sent!” A’gust smiled. “Awesome! Great! Well, um, I’ll get out of your hair then. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

How could anyone be this dazzling?

He put his hand out again. “It was really nice finally meeting you, G’raha.”

“Same here.”

-0-

G’raha returned home in a daze.

Lyna was in the living room with Ryne watching a movie when she heard the front door close, but no greeting echoed down the hallway. A few moments later, G’raha emerged from the darkness, his bag slumping off his shoulder as he distractedly made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

“Is.. he ok?” Ryne whispered at her.

They were on the couch and stopped paying attention to the movie when G’raha stepped into the room. 

“Welcome home!” Lyna announced loudly.

G’raha jumped, almost dropping the glass in his hands. “O-oh. Sorry, I’m back. Were you two alright while I was out?”

“I think you’re the one who  _ isn’t  _ alright.” Lyna noted.

“Haha, maybe.”

He turned around to put his cup in the sink and lingered for just a moment too long. Lyna was about to call out to him again, but G’raha turned around with an overly optimistic smile on his face. The fake one he put on whenever he didn’t want to talk about something. 

“Are you staying for dinner, Ryne? I’m making katsudon!” 

“Oh…! You don’t have to go out of your way…” Ryne turned towards Lyna, worriedly.

“Nonsense! I was planning on making it anyway.” 

“Yeah, stay! It’ll be fun.” Lyna echoed G’raha’s sentiments.

Ryne nodded, happy to take him up on this offer.

G’raha promptly started dinner preparations and the girls returned to their movie. Ryne leaned towards Lyna.

“What do you think happened?”

Lyna shrugged. “G’raha’s acting weird.”

“I’ll text August.” 

On the television, the film they were watching was reaching its climax. The main character was losing control of themselves, they were about to turn into a monster and their friends were powerless to stop it from happening. It was an emotional scene, but the girls were too busy huddled on the couch, looking at the smaller screen that was Ryne’s phone.

She messaged August, whose name was next to a sunflower in her contact list. 

_ What was that about?? _

The three little dots indicating a response being typed showed up quickly enough, but it was an agonizing few minutes before the reply arrived.

_ A lot of things. _

“That’s it?” Lyna pressed her lips together.

“He’s always like this.”

Another string of replies.

_ It’s complicated. _

_ Ok, not really. _

_ I have to thank you. I never thought I’d see him again. This was such a lucky day. _

_ Hehe. _

“What does he mean?” Lyna asked again.

Ryne didn’t appear to understand either. “I’ll… have to ask him later.”

“Hmm…”

Lyna turned around on the couch. G’raha had put on his apron and was preparing the pork chops. 

“Um, G’raha? What happened to poster guy?”

G’raha tensed up.

“Oh, he went home.” His face was red.

“He’s a celebrity, isn’t he? That’s why he had the sunglasses. Ryne told me he gets hassled in public a lot if people recognize him.”

Lyna nudged Ryne, who quickly caught on to what she was doing. “It was pretty bad even before they were famous. Thancred told me a lot of stories.”

“Hmmm…” G’raha made a noise like he wasn’t interested. He placed a cutlet on the piping hot pan and it sizzled. The smell was amazing.

Ryne continued to talk about A’gust for a few minutes, hoping to get G’raha to talk. But it was clear the cat was too inside his own head. The girls eventually gave up and returned to the movie.

An hour later, the three had dinner. It was delicious and it seemed like G’raha had calmed down enough to behave normally. They had small talk over the table. Thoughts about the movie they just watched, stuff about school, where G’raha got this katsudon recipe. It was peaceful, but Lyna kept a close eye on her guardian’s demeanor. He was hiding it well, but she could still tell he was distracted.

After dinner, G’raha and Lyna walked Ryne to the train station and wished her a safe trip home. She thanked them for dinner. G’raha said she could come over whenever she wanted. 

“G’raha, are you ok?” Lyna asked on the walk back home.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been weird.” She squeezed his hand and looked at the floor, worried he would deflect the subject again. Lyna wondered if she was that untrustworthy. Was it because she was a kid? She just wanted to help.

G’raha stopped walking. He knelt down to her height. “I’m sorry. I’ve been worrying you haven’t I?”

Lyna nodded.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you Lyna. I’m just…” G’raha rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m having trouble sorting out my feelings.”

Lyna grabbed G’raha’s hands in hers and pressed tightly. “You always tell me not to keep things bottled up, so now I’m telling you the same thing.”

He laughed.

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am!”

-0-

_ Thanks for seeing Ryne off! She just got home. _

A’gust’s text was followed by a bunch of hearts and happy face emojis. G’raha stared at it for ten minutes, trying to convince himself the events of today were real.

He had somehow gotten away from Lyna’s interrogation by reassuring her that he’d talk to her about it once he was ready. G’raha just didn’t know how to explain it to her. Even he wasn’t sure what was going on in the first place.

After doing the dishes, G’raha retreated to his bedroom and found himself surrounded by his merch and posters. A’gust Fen’s handsome smiles all staring down at him. Now that he had seen the Warrior of Light in person, something about all his expression in these posters felt fabricated. Probably because they were. He’d always wondered why A’gust never participated in any of the interviews or TV guest spots. His band members always brushed the subject off. It made A’gust seem mysterious. 

G’raha realized now that A’gust’s personality was very unlike his music. In person, he seemed more reserved. G’raha wondered why that was.

_ It’s no problem. Lyna was really happy to have her over.  _

_ Really? That’s great! _

More emojis.

G’raha plopped on his bed and smiled at his phone. This was real. Seriously. They were really texting.

_ She said the katsudon you made was delicious. _

_ I’m kind of jealous. _

_ I’d love to have your cooking someday. _

A’gust sent those in quick succession. G’raha felt his heart rate escalate. 

_ Ryne must be exaggerating… But if it would please you, I don’t mind making it again. _

Ba-thump. Ba-thump. 

Those three dots flashed at him. 

Ba-thump.

Ba-thump.

_ It’s a date. _

_ :”) _

G’raha looked the words over.

A date.


	14. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thancred tails August on a date with G'raha. Urianger shows up too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to the tune of Sleep Talking by FUNKIST.

“Well, he’s not dangerous so…”

“So, we should just let August do what he wants?” 

“If it’ll make him write, I don’t see why not.”

“He’s going to get  _ hurt,  _ Alphinaud!” Alisaie stomped.

It was a half hour before rehearsal. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn assembled without their fearless leader to discuss a pertinent issue. His writer’s block and the fact that their concert was quickly impending. They were six weeks out now and August still hadn’t finished their new song.

“At least he started  _ something.  _ The demo was good. Although different from what we usually play,” Y’shtola exhaled.

The Scions stood around the room awkwardly. Alisaie by her amp, she had been adjusting the knobs before Alphinaud came in with the demo of what would be their new song. Y’shtola sitting comfortably on the bench, finishing up a can of black coffee. And Thancred at his drums, looking ever more tired by the moment.

“Different is good. Means he’s moving on,” he added.

Alphinaud nodded. “See, we’re mostly in agreement.”

“I don’t buy it.” Alisaie was firm. “This G’raha person is a super fan, right? How do we know for sure he doesn’t have any ulterior motives?”

Thancred laughed. “If anything, August is the one with ulterior motives, isn’t he?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Alisaie stuck her tongue out.

“Why don’t we get our resident expert to keep an eye on him, then? That should assuage any fears, right?”

Y’shtola turned to Alphinaud and Thancred seeking approval.

The white-haired elezen nodded. “That’s a great idea.”

Alisaie grumbled. “That  _ would  _ make me feel better.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Y’shtola also nodded.

“Huh? Wait. I didn’t agree to anything. I have better things to do.”

“Do you, Thancred? Didn’t you just tell us you wrapped up a big job?”

“Fuck, I did, but I was hoping to…” Thancred stopped himself short when he caught Y’shtola’s expression. She was smiling serenely in his general direction with eyes that looked like they were peering into his very soul. A feat she managed despite her blindness. 

Thancred knew she was doing it on purpose. The fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was all the more irritating. “Fine,  _ fine!  _ I’ll keep an eye on him. Gods.”

“Great.” Y’shtola finished her coffee and stood up.

“What’s great?” 

The studio door opened and August’s voice chimed in. 

“Nothing!” Alisaie exclaimed. “You’re late.”

August’s ears flattened against his head as he looked down at his phone. It was still two before one. He was early. “I thought… Why are you all here so early?”

Alphinaud gave August a pat on the shoulder before picking up his bags and zipping up his jacket to leave. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, looking forward to the song being done.”

The elezen waved and August laughed nervously as their manager exited the studio. He turned to the rest of the Scions quizzically. “Did I miss something?”

“No. Come on, let’s get to practice already. We’ve wasted enough time.”

August blinked and walked up to Y’shtola while he unpacked his guitar, whispering. “Is it just me or is she upset?”

She laughed. “Oh, you know, boy troubles.”

-0-

There were far better ways to spend a Sunday.

Thancred wished he’d fought against this idea harder, but he was fully roped into it and unable to escape without facing dire consequences from his bandmates. If Alisaie was so worried, why didn’t  _ she  _ volunteer herself? Then again, this was  _ his  _ specialty.

He sighed, sinking further into his seat. 

It was so nice out. Not a cloud in the sky, fairly warm for early winter. His targets were about thirty feet away from him. Sitting together on a bench, snacking on crepes they bought from a street stall outside the park. Thancred was pretending to read a newspaper, looking as inconspicuous as usual. Not that he had to try very hard. The two he was tailing were so in their own world. Thancred doubted he’d be noticed unless he set himself on fire and started yelling help.

The white-haired hyur laughed to himself. Good for them. Being so happy and carefree. He wondered if either of them had noticed how they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Expressions tender. Smiles warm. Young love. He exhaled again.

Was there any point to him tailing them? The red-haired miquo’te seemed harmless. Definitely starstruck and trying to hide it, sure, but what fan wouldn’t behave that way? Thancred could think of a few people he’d definitely lose his cool in front of. That didn’t make him suspicious or dangerous.

Although, he was. 

Suspicious and dangerous, that is.

“What  _ are  _ you doing out here dressed up like that?”

Thancred nearly jumped out of his seat. “ _ Seven hells! _ ” He whisper-yelled, turning towards the tall elezen who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed his wrist and pulled him down, forcing him to sit down next to him on the bench. “Get a clue, would you?”

Thancred nodded in his targets’ direction.

Urianger followed Thancred’s gaze, finding two miqo’te now taking a bite out of each other’s crepes. 

“My, isn’t that intimate.”

“Yeah, the sexual tension is just palpable.” 

“You sound tired.” Urianger laughed. “Or perhaps jealous?”

“What? I’m not…” Thancred’s cheeks warmed. “Shit, they’re moving. We have to follow.”

“We?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Has it not occurred to you that I may have other business to attend to?”

“Do you though?”

Urianger sighed. “Not at all.”

Thancred and Urianger followed the two miqo’te into the Universalis district, to a movie theatre near the Pendants. The crowd made it easy for them to hide and stay out of sight. Thancred watched the red-haired miqo’te lead the way, walking a step ahead of August who was struggling to keep up. He hid under his hat and scarf, desperate to avoid the gazes of the strangers walking passed him. When it seemed like they were about to lose each other, the redhead spun around, taking August’s hand in his and gently leading them the rest of the way to the theatre.

“Mm, the red-haired miqo’te looks familiar,” Urianger mused out loud.

“He came to our meet-and-greet.”

Thancred was only barely paying attention to his companion. He dragged Urianger along as they navigated the crowd towards the theatre. As they stepped inside, he quickly scanned the area to find their targets. They had just made it to the automatic ticket machine. Fuck. How was he supposed to figure out what movie they were going to see?

“Might I suggest checking what films are starting in the next fifteen minutes?” 

Thancred groaned. “Are you reading my mind or something?”

“No. It is just that what you are thinking is incredibly obvious.”

The elezen smirked as they discretely made their way to another ticket machine. Thancred looked through the list, finding only one film starting soon. A horror film, of all things. He made a face as he looked up to Urianger. “You sure about this?”

“It does seem out of character, but perhaps A’gust’s companion has a penchant towards the macabre.”

“I guess that’s possible.”

Thancred bought two tickets.

“May I ask what A’gust’s date’s name is? He really does seem familiar.”

Urianger asked as they followed their targets to the food counter. They were chatting happily, but Thancred was beginning to notice August’s usual anxiety resurface. His thoughts were probably racing to figure out how to stay cool when they were about to watch a scary flick. Poor guy. 

“Grandia? Guava?” Thancred shrugged. He couldn’t remember.

“Extremely helpful of you.”

“Thanks, babe, I know.” 

“What did--”

“Ssh!” 

Thancred interrupted the elezen, pushing aside so they could hide behind a nearby pillar as August and his date turned to leave the food counter, popcorn and drinks in hand. He sighed as their targets continued, still not realizing they were being followed. Thank the Twelve.

Urianger sighed heavily.

“What?” Thancred snapped.

“Nothing.”

“You know, August is usually pretty good at noticing tails. I didn’t think I’d get this far, to be honest.”

Thancred watched the two head to the restroom. The redhead headed inside while August waited by the exit. Good, this meant they had time to get to the theatre room first. 

“To be fair, his mind seems otherwise preoccupied,” Urianger replied.

They made their way to Room 6 and took seats all the way in the back corner. Thancred slumped in his seat. Grateful for the moment of reprieve. 

“How is Ryne? Is she taking care of you?”

Thancred rolled his eyes. “Don’t you mean, aren’t I taking care of her?”

“I said what I said,” Urianger smirked. His eyes soft. 

Thancred hated that expression. It made him feel unnecessary emotions. “She’s fine. Doing well at school. Doing all the things a teenage girl should be doing. You know.”

“I’m glad.”

“You could’ve…”

The conversation was cut short when two miqo’te entered the room and the realization hit Thancred too late. 

Time slowed as Thancred found August’s gaze meeting Urianger’s. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stupid, tall, elezen-- Why didn’t he think about this sooner? As recognition dawned on August’s face, his pastel eyes also met Thancred’s. The dark-skinned miqo’te gawked for a moment, but quickly returned his attention to his date. Nervously dismissing his weirdness for a second as they went to get seats in the middle of the room.

“Fuck,” Thancred swore.

Urianger nodded. “For once, I am inclined to agree.”

-0-

Things were going well, all things considered.

August rarely let his guard down in public. Too many bad incidents had happened for him not to be paranoid. But today… Today was nice. He felt the rest of the world peel away when they were together. It was dangerous, but August felt at peace. Everytime G’raha smiled, he smiled back. His heart leapt. His mind bubbled. The more they spoke, the more in love he fell. 

It was scary.

It was exciting.

“I’ve been wanting to see this one.” 

G’raha pointed at the poster of a thriller that recently came out and August froze up. The redhead noticed his apprehension immediately. “But we don’t have to see it, if you don’t want to!”

August shook his head. “No, it’s alright.” He laughed. “How bad could it be?”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to force yourself. I’m just…”

“Just?”

“Happy to spend time with you.” G’raha glanced away sheepishly. 

August’s heart threatened to break through his rib cage. 

They had only been talking regularly for two weeks, but August already couldn’t remember what life was like before they’d met. What was it like before the good morning texts? The long paragraphs they’d send each just talking about their day, what they were up to. Useless things. Banal things. Last week, August took a chance and called him after work. They spoke until deep into the night. They talked about everything and nothing. He didn’t even notice the hours going by. It felt like they’d known each other forever. 

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, August felt like G’raha was meant to be at his side. Like the unknown forces of the universe pulled together to be here and, now that they were together, he wasn’t allowed to let him go.

Gods be damned. He’d never let him go.

“Oh, the room’s pretty empty.”

G’raha commented as they stepped into the theatre. He was right. Most of the seats were available. Just a few people occupying some spots here and there. Notably…

“Ah…”

August caught a familiar elezen’s stare from the corner of the room. It was Urianger. And Thancred. What were they doing here? Was it a coincidence? 

“A’gust?”

“I-It’s nothing!”

They sat in the middle of the room and August did his best not to turn around. Weren’t Urianger and Thancred fighting? Did they make up? Were they on a date? He didn’t really think they were the movie-going types. But then, it’s not like he bothered to think about what his bandmates did in their time off either. 

Mind your own business, August.   


“I usually don’t go to the movies, so this is kind of nice.”

“Why not?” August asked.

“Can’t say it interests me much to come here alone.”

August understood. He usually avoided the theater too. It was cramped and crowded. He preferred watching movies from the comforts of his own couch. 

“Bad date idea, then?”

G’raha shook his head. “Of course not! I would go anywhere if it were with you.”

They stared at each other, both embarrassed by the direction of their conversation. It wasn’t the first time today. It seemed every time they spoke, they were immediately struck by the weight of their own words. It made August wonder how far he could push-- how far could he reach without frightening him? Just how much of his feelings did G’raha reciprocate? Did he even know fast his heart was beating right now? Did he even know the effect his words had? Or was August just getting caught up in his own fantasies? Was he just imagining it? Or did G’raha actually have feelings for him too.

His heart felt like it was going to burst and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep it up in check. 

A voice in the back of his mind warned him. 

Careful. Don’t you remember what happened last time?

Careful, August.

“Um…”

The lights in the theatre dimmed as the speakers blared and the screen started playing trailers. August was grateful for the timing. He cleared his mind. Just ground yourself. Think about where you are right now. Feel the floor beneath your feet. Breathe. Just enjoy the movie. 

He could do that. 

-0-

They didn’t talk about that night yet.

G’raha kept trying to figure when to bring it up. It never seemed like the right moment and the more time passed, the more he felt like maybe it didn’t matter. The more he and A’gust spoke, the more it felt like they’d known each other their whole lives. Something about being together just felt… natural. It was as easy as breathing. He never knew how comforting another person’s presence could be until now.

Admittedly, he didn’t know how to deal with it.

He wanted to get closer.

But he was afraid.

What distance was he allowed? How far could he push without scaring him away? 

How far did they already go?

G’raha somehow felt like he was misleading A’gust. The more time they spent together, the more like a fraud he felt. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember what happened the night they spent together. To be honest, he couldn’t even confirm that it was A’gust he had spent the night with in the first place. How was he supposed to bring it up without sounding like an asshole? 

He was already struggling with how to bring up that he was a fan of the Scions. That was another thing he felt like he had missed the ball on. He had opportunities. A’gust talked about rehearsals a lot. He had mentioned preparing for their concert-- that he was nervous because he hasn’t finished their new song yet.  _ I know,  _ G’raha wanted to say. And he could’ve. He had so many chances.

I bought the tickets as soon as they were on sale. I went to your meet-and-greet months ago. I saw your first show. 

G’raha was getting mixed up in his own web of secrets. 

It was just… the more fun he had, the more comfortable with A’gust’s presence he became, the less he wanted to talk about things that might ruin their current relationship.

Which was… what even?

G’raha tried to focus on the film rolling in front of him. He tried not to be conscious of A’gust’s proximity, of the fact that he can hear his breathing. He stole glances, finding his date struggling to keep his eyes peeled on the screen. He hid behind his hands, biting his lip and occasionally letting out a yelp when he was too nervous about the actions of the characters on screen.

The movie was reaching its climax. The characters were in a dire situation. For a horror film, it sure spent a lot of time getting you to like its cast. The actors sold it well. G’raha found himself genuinely sad when the love interest prepared to sacrifice himself for the protagonist. It was a dramatic scene, one that felt earned and all the more tragic. It seemed like there was no other choice.

G’raha turned to see A’gust’s reaction to the scene as the protagonist cried in pain, finding the other miqo’te hunched over, sobbing quietly. His breaths were shallow.

“A’gust? A’gust, are you alright?”

He leaned over, concerned.

“I... I just need a moment.” His voice was small, weak. 

A’gust stood up suddenly and took quick, intentioned steps to leave the theatre. G’raha quickly followed after him, worried.

The dark-skinned miqo’te was curled up by the doors to the room, hugging his knees. G’raha knelt down next to him.

“A’gust…?”

Moments later, the door opened again and two people G’raha quickly recognized to be Scion members appeared. He barely had time to question their presence when Thancred quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him away from A’gust.

“W-wait, what are you--”

G’raha’s complaints fell on deaf ears as Thancred pulled them across the long hall, still within line of sight of A’gust and Urianger who had not followed, but out of earshot. G’raha watched Urianger sit down next to the miqo’te saying nothing, but remaining there nonetheless.

He bit his lip. What was going on?

“He’ll be alright,” Thancred’s voice called G’raha’s attention back.

He turned to the white-haired hyur. “I… But… He doesn’t seem alright.”

Thancred sighed. His expression was that of conflict, as if he was trying to gauge just how much he should say. “August has always had anxiety, but something happened two years ago and made things worse.”

“I… shouldn’t ask, should I?”

“No.”

“So, why take me aside?”

Thancred scratched his head. “August can take care of himself, but that doesn’t stop the people close to him from worrying. He’s been through a lot and I think he deserves another chance at happiness. I guess I wanted to make sure for myself that you were good enough.”

G’raha glanced back to A’gust. He was still curled up, shaking just a bit. He wished so desperately in that moment to take away whatever pain he was feeling.

“Am I?” He asked.

Thancred scoffed and patted his shoulder. “Time will tell, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all the enjoyed the various NPC cameos in this chapter! I've been meaning to write some Uricred stuff. I have enough fleshed out about them in this AU to write a spinoff honestly, but I do not have the spoons right now to work on another writing project. (Maybe when this fic ends?)
> 
> Trivia corner: You might have noticed I spell August's name differently sometimes! Who knows if I've been 100% consistent about it, but "A'gust" is in fact his actual name and "August" is his nickname. Is it pronounced differently? Maybe. It's mostly a stylistic decision I made on a whim because I enjoy making things overly complicated for myself.
> 
> He's half seeker/half keeper, which is why his last name isn't Tia.


End file.
